Wishing Well
by Mereo Flere
Summary: It's not an object, but an act.


"Wishing Well" by Mereo Flere  
Disclaimer: I don't own Fate/Stay Night.

A/N: I'm not sure what the purpose of this piece is. I probably never will.

* * *

Illyasviel's birth was not like most others.  
She was a homunculus, a fake existence created by the Einzbern to act as a vessel for the Holy Grail.  
From the very beginning, she was never meant to live her own life, to find her own happiness, nor had she ever expected to.  
She, like many others before her, was simply a tool for their cause, one that would be discarded once her use was up.  
Yet, somehow, without ever meaning to, she had managed to find something to love: Emiya Shirou, the adopted son of the father she had never known, and her precious Onii-chan.  
Though it had been short, she had cherished their time together.  
Now it was over, one way or another.  
He was going to sacrifice himself to destroy the Holy Grail, to put an end to the cycle of death once and for all.  
He knew what he was doing, there was no way he couldn't have, yet he would still choose death over the alternative.  
That was just the way her Onii-chan was.  
However, this girl could not bear to see him die.  
Though it would mean she would die, she would take her place and seal the gate herself.  
It wasn't a matter of worth.  
She didn't know how to measure the value of a life, nor if hers meant less than her brother's.  
Her reasons were beyond who she thought deserved to live more.  
Though she was not entirely sure about the feeling in her chest, she couldn't help but wish it was love.  
She didn't want to die.  
She had never wanted to die, but this was still the decision she had made.  
In a way, she was just as foolish as her Onii-chan.  
That brought a smile to her face.  
Though they had never had the chance to really be a family, this one thought made her feel as though they had.

Even so, she was not without regrets.  
There was still things she wanted to do, and among them a single simple wish: To stay with the brother she was leaving behind.  
To stay with Emiya Shirou.  
While it was just a whisper in her heart, never spoken aloud or even in her thoughts, the Holy Grail heard and though its existence was one that she was trying to deny, it pitied her.  
It was one wish it could not fulfill.  
With what strength it had left, it was impossible to return the body she had forsaken.  
Still, there was one thing it could do.  
The gate was still open, though it was quickly closing on its own.  
The souls of the fallen heroes, their duty fulfilled, rushed to return to the Throne.  
Only one more remained.  
At the very least, it could let them go, together.

She was dead.  
Or rather, she was supposed to be.  
The truth was neither here nor there.  
Somehow, she was conscious, aware of her own existence.  
And her body still breathed, still felt the world around her.  
This was not death. That much she knew.  
But where she was was no longer where she had been.  
This too, she knew before even opening the eyes she wasn't supposed to have.

A red sky greeted her.  
Beneath her, the rust-colored earth acted as her bed.  
In the distance, gears forever turned, held up by some invisible force, their clinking and clanking breaking through the silence.  
Around her, as if they were markers for a grave, were swords embedded into the ground, the only monuments in this foreign land.  
All of these, and only these, she saw, sitting up in her place.  
This was not her world.  
"Where am I?"  
There was no answer.  
Yet that, in and of itself, was an answer as well.

Alone.  
She was by herself, only with a sea of swords to accompany her.  
That realization frightened her to her core.  
For the first time in her life, she was truly alone.  
Nobody to use her.  
Nobody to obey her.  
Nobody to love her.  
With that understanding, she finally broke down and cried.  
Before, she would have hidden her weakness.  
She would have buried it within her, lashing out at someone, anyone.  
This time, though, there was no need for that.  
No one was around to see her like this.  
Or so she thought.

She wasn't sure how much time had passed.  
An eternity? A second?  
She wasn't sure.  
All she knew was that it had happened.  
A voice. One that remained fresh in her memory.  
"Why are you here?"  
It called out to her.  
There was no doubt about it.  
That voice had to belong to one man.  
"Tell me, why are you here? This is not a place for someone like you."

Ilya looked up, eyes still moist with tears.  
As she had expected, it was him.  
A man with white hair, dark skin, and a red cloak that seemed to flow behind him, even in this windless landscape.  
"Archer..."

An Archer.  
So, that was what she saw him as.  
It wasn't exactly wrong, but...  
That wasn't who he was.  
There was no need to correct her, though.  
To him, a name was just a name.  
Archer.  
Faker.  
Even Emiya Shirou.  
It was all the same to him.  
A name didn't matter.  
Right now, only the response to the question did.  
"I ask you again, why are you here? The Throne of Heroes is not somewhere you belong."

She saw no reaction to the name.  
Then again, if what the man had told her was the truth, then it was no surprise.  
While the Archer she had known originated from the man before her, the memories of the war would not return to him.  
Not as memories. Only a record would remain.  
Still, she could not answer his question.  
Until a moment ago, she had not even known where she was.  
"Why don't you figure it out yourself?" she asked, wiping the tears from her eyes.  
Her trademark smirk had returned to her, trying to act as though nothing was out of the ordinary.  
Whatever ordinary was.

Emiya sighed.  
She was the same as ever, he saw.  
"Tsk. So you don't know either?"

She faltered, looking away.  
"How could you tell?"

Heh. As if it would be hard for anybody but the most dense to tell.  
"Only a fool wouldn't be able to see through such a pitiful tactic.  
"Besides, I know you better than anyone else, Ilyasviel von Einzbern."

Her heart skipped a beat.  
Suddenly, she looked at him again, eyes wide open in shock.  
Her name...  
"How did you know my name?"

The man smiled, satisfied with her reaction.  
"Why don't you figure it out yourself?"

Ah.  
Of course.  
Before he had been a servant.  
Before he had even been a hero.  
That man had been...  
"Onii-chan?"

"Heh. It's been a long time since I've was called that."

The maiden in the white dress smiled.  
Rising from the ground, she held her arms open to embrace the crimson knight.  
It should have been a touching moment.  
A reunion between a long lost brother and sister.  
Yet, the truth of it was...  
"However, I'm not your Onii-chan."  
Emiya stopped her, holding her back with his hand.  
Shocked eyes looked at him, not at all understanding.  
But he had expected as much.  
"Even if I am Shirou and you are Ilya, we are not the same ones that we knew.  
"Even if we were, I was different person then.  
"Don't mistake me for that fool."

Ilya's knees felt weak.  
That momentary happiness she had obtained was so quickly snatched away.  
However.  
So what if this man was not that one?  
"Onii-chan is Onii-chan! No matter what!"

Emiya grimaced.  
They really did seem to be the same.  
Certainly, she was as stubborn as his memory.  
His heart reached out for her, wanting to agree...  
"You can't change the truth."  
...yet he killed it mercilessly all the same.

Still, not all things simply disappear when they are killed.  
This throne itself was proof of that.  
They were proof of that.  
"Neither can you."

* * *

_We're here for each other, whether you like it or not._


End file.
